


Reckless Behavior

by themoonalwaysfalls (dandyqueen)



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: AU, M/M, Pompous Pep, Teacher Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 08:16:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1421122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandyqueen/pseuds/themoonalwaysfalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The wrong assignment turns into the right situation, and class has never been so interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, look, Pompous Pep AU with added teacher kink!

English class at eight o’clock in the morning was a punishment delegated specifically to those who worked until late hours of the night and already had no time to complete assignments. Of course, Danny fell into this unfortunate majority. He tended to use Dr. Vlad Masters’ English class to take his daily hour-and-a-half long morning nap, a fact that didn’t escape his professor’s attention.

Somewhere in world beyond Danny’s dreamland, Dr. Masters was yelling. “Would someone please wake Mr. Fenton? He’s drooling on my desk.”

A hand on Danny’s shoulder shook him gently, causing him to snort violently as he jerked into consciousness. The class gave a collective giggle, and Dr. Masters rolled his eyes before returning to the lecture.

When at last Dr. Masters dismissed the class, Danny was the first one to jump out of his seat. He was halfway out the door, bright red backpack hoisted high on his shoulders, when Dr. Masters called his name. The teacher reclined at his desk, observing his student coolly. His hair, a pure dusty gray, glinted in the harsh florescent light of the classroom. The tips of his ponytail fell barely to his shoulder blades. If Danny hadn't been used to the ponytail, he would have judged it as supremely out of character in comparison to Dr. Masters’ demure disposition.

Danny approached Masters’ desk. He rolled his shoulders to adjust his backpack straps and eyed the large stack of papers on the edge of the desk. "Yes, sir?"

"Mr. Fenton, I need to talk to you about your research paper," Masters said, adjusting the stack in front of him. In the top, right-hand corner was Danny's name, followed by his subheadings. The stack was awfully large; Danny had no idea that his paper had turned out to be so long. Of course, he hadn’t been paying attention to the length; he’d turned his paper in late the night before.

Danny's heart slammed against his ribs. The time tag on the email would have read two hours after midnight, but surely Masters wouldn't be so strict that he wouldn't grade the paper. And Danny really hadn't been able to circumvent his predicament the night before; he'd been held up at work, quite literally. The overnight drugstore where he worked part time had been robbed and he hadn't been able to leave until the police finished questioning. He could have sworn he included his anecdote in the email he sent Masters; the paper had been emailed in haste, but he definitely remembered to give the professor the reason why his paper was late.

"Look, Dr. Masters, I'm really sorry that the paper was late-," Danny began, but he was cut off by Masters’ raised hand.

"Yes, I read your excuse, but we'll discuss that in just a moment." Masters held up the stack of stapled papers and waved it back and forth, an eyebrow raised in question. "Did you check your file before you sent the email?"

"Uh... well," Danny grumbled, scratching the back of his head. He'd been in such a rush to get the paper sent in that he hadn't exactly checked which file he was sending. He just assumed that he sent the right one. It had been in the right folder and everything; he was sure of it.

Masters extended the stack of papers to his student. "I'll take the lack of a straight answer as a no. Here is what you sent me. I hope you enjoy reading it."

Danny tentatively took the stack of papers from Dr. Masters and upon reading the heading on the first page, turned a particularly perfect shade of flaming crimson. The title sprawled across the top of the page was _Reckless_. He paled miserably. Fucking fuck, he'd sent Dr. Masters the story he wrote! If he'd sent it to any other teacher, he probably could have passed the story off as something he'd found online - something weird like a name fill-in-the-blank porno or some equally ridiculous excuse. But this was Dr. Masters and his name was inclusively scrawled out in at least half the sentences on the page. He was the second character in the story, the first being Danny himself. He was also coincidentally the character situationally on top.

The urge to slap himself in the face was extreme. "I, uh... I found this generator online and, uh, thought it would be a laugh to fill our names in?" Danny stuttered, sweating profusely. This was just fan-fucking-tastic. Now he'd get reported for something like sexual harassment or maybe even plagiarism, he'd get kicked out of school, and his parents were already disappointed that he was an English major. What would he do then? He didn’t want to work at that drugstore for the rest of his life!

Dr. Masters’ disbelief was visible to the point where eyebrows were dangerously close to stretching into his hairline. "Really? Because I believe I can safely assume that's your writing style, Daniel."

Danny clutched the papers hard enough to turn his knuckles white. "I- I really don't know how to explain this, Dr. Masters."

"Is this really what you think about during class, Daniel?" Masters asked. He laced his fingers together, forming a steeple with his hands. "My -how did you put it?- 'tantalizing collarbones and knowledgeable fingers?' I wasn’t aware you were so observant. I must admit, you would be doing very well in this class if you put half the talent you exhibit in your story into my assignments."

"I swear it won't happen-

Danny paused, soaking up Dr. Masters’ words. He wasn't offended? The professor didn't seem even mildly disgusted or annoyed. In fact, Masters seemed intrigued. Or perhaps Danny was just hoping that the professor wasn't offended. The story wasn't exactly flattering; even as the writer, Danny knew it was kind of creepy to write an entire fantasy about his teacher.

"Wait, you're not mad? You're not gonna report me?"

Masters smirked. "Now why would I report you, dear boy? You've done nothing wrong besides turn in the wrong paper."

"I guess I just thought..."

Masters stood up, removing his suit jacket as he moved. "You were under the impression that I would be offended? On the contrary, I'm actually rather flattered."

Danny slowly unclenched his fists and nervously smoothed the wrinkled papers. "What?"

“I would never condone shirking your academic responsibilities, but you took time out of your day to write an entire novelization of your imagined escapades involving me,” Masters replied. He loosened the crimson bow-tie around his neck and unhooked the top button of his starched shirt. “And though I would prefer if you would listen to the lesson I’m teaching, you’ve clearly spent enough time observing my mannerisms for your little story to execute them skillfully.”

Danny could see the tops of his teacher’s collarbones peeking past the unbuttoned section of his shirt, and his mouth went dry. “Well, uh, thanks, Dr. Masters.”

“Just please try to include more of your talent in my assignments, Daniel,” Masters said. He pulled the knot of his bow out and let it hang motionless from his lapels. He never appeared so casual in Danny’s class due to the rigor of the course, but Danny had seen him dressed down in some of his freshmen classes. He could now safely conclude what if he dressed down in Danny’s class, he’d never be able to concentrate. “And, if you would, please send me the correct file for your research paper as soon as you possibly can. By midnight would be preferable.”

“Absolutely, Dr. Masters,” Danny said, breathless. He set the hard copy of _Reckless_ down on the desk and offered a sheepish grin. “And thanks for the extension. I’m sorry about the mix-up.”

“Small matters, Daniel,” he replied with a wave, effectively dismissing his student. “Now hurry along, I have another class coming in shortly.”

“Thanks, Dr. Masters!” Danny replied, turning to leave. He’d been expecting some sort of lecture at least, but it didn’t seem that he would get one.

“Mr. Fenton?”

Danny stopped at the door and turned to find Masters smirking at him. The change in the professor from the class period before was enormous. His smile was easy and he relaxed against his desk, ass firmly planted on the wooden tabletop. His arms were crossed loosely rather than stiffly, barely animated.

“I enjoyed your work rather _enthusiastically._ My office hours start at noon.”

Danny blushed, but returned the grin. “I’ll bring a few more of my pieces.”

“See that you do. I’d hate to miss out.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two of two. Down to business.

Danny had been early to approximately two events in his life, one being his birth and the other being his kindergarten commencement ceremony (and that was because his mom drove him to school that day). That being said, he almost couldn’t believe that he was standing outside of Dr. Masters’ office fifteen minutes before the professor’s office hours even started. His disbelief was furthered by the motive behind his visit: Dr. Masters had _enjoyed_ his fantasy story. Apparently, he had enjoyed it _enthusiastically_ , and Danny could only imagine in what capacity.

He leaned against the wall and stared at the plaque with Masters’ name engraved in gold across the face. The engraver had obviously been skilled, but he picked out the tiny gold capillaries of scratches that were uneven against the stenciled letters. He was vaguely aware that Humanities secretary was giving him a funny look from his seat at the reception desk; the guy probably thought he was stoned off his rocker. Fortunately, that was not the case this time; he was just tired.

A warm hand on his shoulder broke him from his reverie. He looked over his shoulder to find Dr. Masters standing enticingly close behind him, his infuriating collarbones still perfectly visible and highly prevalent. “You’re falling asleep on your feet, Daniel.”

“Oh, yeah, I had a long night,” Danny replied. He let himself be steered into the office and onto the squishy couch pushed against one wall.

Masters shut the door behind him and locked it. “Yes, I know. I did read your email after all.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right.” Danny pushed his backpack into the tiny space between the couch and the wall. He had to wonder how Dr. Masters actually got the couch into his office, and for what purpose. It wasn’t a hideous couch, but it didn’t match the interior design of the office, so it couldn’t be there for aesthetics. “So what do you need this couch for?”

Masters chuckled. “Believe it or not, I tend to use my office hours to take naps myself. However, at least I don’t do it during class.”

As a twenty-year-old college student, Danny was reluctant to admit that he made a habit out of pouting, but his defiant scowl caused Dr. Masters to laugh. “I’m just playing around, Daniel. That couch was already in here when I was assigned to this office. The last occupant was a professor of psychology. But it _is_ rather handy after a late night of grading papers.”

“Speaking of which, what did you think about mine?” Danny asked, hoping futilely that he didn’t sound too eager to know. A deep blush plastered his face; he’d always been easily readable, even as a child. “My story, I mean.”

Masters settled his suit jacket on the back on his chair, brushing the wrinkles out of the material. “It was, shall we say, intriguing. Enticing. _Tempting_.”

Heat curled in Danny’s stomach, bright and hot at Dr. Masters’ pretty words. “So you liked it? It wasn’t – creepy? Because I was worried about that when I was writing it, but I loved writing it-” Danny stopped, conscious that he was rambling and sticking his foot as far back into his mouth as the appendage could go.

“I must admit I was a little shocked when I opened the file to grade your research paper and found my name in your mouth, but I won’t deny that I liked it very much,” Masters replied, planting his ass on top of his desk again. Danny’s gaze wandered down to appreciate the contact, but he snapped to attention as soon as Dr. Masters began to talk again. “I also won’t deny that despite your lack of effort on my assignments and your sleeping habits in my class, I like you. I liked you as soon as I saw you, Daniel.”

“You did?” Danny asked, propping his feet up on the couch.

“Yes, little badger, I did,” Masters replied. He’d removed his loose bow-tie at some point during the day and was now left in his partially unbuttoned dress shirt; he’d rolled his sleeves up well, exposing muscular forearms lined by visible veins. “Of course, as your professor, I’m really not allowed to say anything regarding my personal feelings for you, but in the wake of your attention lapse, I feel I’m now at liberty to be more familiar with you. If you’d like me to be, that is.”

Danny was momentarily distracted by Dr. Masters’ fingers clenching the lip of the desk. “I’d like that, Dr. Masters.”

“Excellent, Daniel,” Masters replied, crossing his arms. For the second time that day, Danny’s mouth went dry as he imagined the strength behind him. “And now I have a question for you.”

“Okay, sure.” Once again, Danny’s thinly disguised enthusiasm made him blush.

“This fantasy of yours, it must be strong for you to write out the entire fantasy, correct?” Maskers asked, though his question was rhetorical. His next question is what caught Danny by surprise. “Don’t you think that a little firsthand experience would, well, _aid your writing process_?”

Danny blushed, crossing his legs; his dick ached angrily, agreeing wholeheartedly with Dr. Masters’ suggestion. His writing process would abso-fuckin’-lutely benefit from all firsthand experience offered by his professor. “I think so, yeah.”

“Then I suggest you come here and let me show you,” Masters said, crooking his finger at his student.

Danny had imagined extensively what kissing Dr. Vlad Masters would be like, mostly during class when he should have otherwise been paying attention, but in no universe could he ever have predicted his body’s automatic response.

Masters wound his fingers into Danny’s hair, pulling him in for a kiss. Danny struggled to find some singular part of Masters’ body to hold onto, but settled for the professor’s waist when his hand was guided to the destination. He was warm, so warm that Danny pressed himself closer, trapping the professor against his own desk. He rubbed his aching dick against Masters’ thigh, desperate for any sort of friction to aid his relief.

“You’re so eager, Daniel,” he grinned against the kiss, his tone almost reverent. His wet lips slid past Danny’s, kissing and sucking at his cheek, his jaw, his neck, until he found the top of Danny’s collarbone and began to lick and dig his tongue into the minuet depression between his shirt collar and chest. He grabbed Danny’s ass and lifted the younger man enough to twist his around and sit him on top of the desk. “Be patient, my dear. The door is locked, and I’m going to make you enjoy this.”

Danny’s fingers found the buttons of Dr. Masters’ shirt and began picking them apart, no easy feat considering the professor was kissing him and pressed flush against him. Masters was wedged between Danny’s thighs, and his hands had found the smooth skin beneath Danny’s shirt. His fingers obsessively stroked the thin line of flesh above the waistband of his pants, occasionally daring brazenly to slip past the elastic and stroke the stressed skin beneath.

As soon as Danny finished pulling the buttons of Dr. Master’s shirt apart, somehow without just tearing them off, he started jerking at the belt of his professor’s pants. “Why do you have so many fucking buttons?”

Masters smirked against Danny’s mouth. “A challenge for you, Daniel.”

He popped the button of Danny’s jeans easily and pulled the zipper down with one stroke. Grasping the sides of his jeans, he tugged them down until the student was fully exposed. Danny shivered as the cool air in the office played against his hardness; he moaned softly when Masters wrapped his fingers around Danny’s exposed cock.

“Please, Dr. Masters,” he began, but a sharp stroke of his length turned his pleading into a loud groan.

“As kinky as that title is right now,” Masters said, stroking Danny’s overly sensitized skin, “I want you to call me Vlad. Now lean back a little.”

Danny nodded and did as he was told, leaning back on his folded arms. He couldn’t see what Vlad was doing, but he could hear the professor rip open the buckle of his belt and unzip his suit pants. He produced a condom and a miniscule tube of lube from somewhere, mostly likely from his back pocket; Danny grinned as his head rolled back. Watching his professor become increasingly more desperate was fantastic.

Vlad plastered his fingers with lubricant and gently swirled his first digit around the rim of Danny’s entrance. He grasped his thigh and pushed the younger man’s legs further apart, opening him wide. Danny’s breathing was wild, his hair a mess and clinging to his sweating forehead. His shirt rode up above his midriff, flaunting a flat stomach and a trail of dark, black hair. He bit his lip, a groan building in the back of his throat as Vlad pushed one, two, three fingers inside of him in sequence, pumping his cock and stretching him open simultaneously.

Danny’s begging was becoming increasingly more incoherent and building in volume, prompting Vlad to lean down over him and quiet him with a quick kiss. “Quiet down, little badger. We’re in my office, not my bed, and we haven’t even gotten to the best part.”

“Then fuck me, please,” Danny groaned, pushing himself down onto Vlad’s fingers.

The professor was happy to oblige. He tore open the condom, and, pinching the tip, rolled it over his girth. He fisted himself, coating his dick with lubricant, and lined himself up with Danny’s entrance.

Danny jerked his head back as Vlad pushed in slowly, lighting his body on fire and making his dick pulse tenderly. He wrapped his legs around Vlad’s waist, pushing his partner deeper in. Vlad’s thrusts were slow at first, shallow and controlled so that Danny could become accustomed to his size. He ground his hips down against the younger man’s ass, thrusting harder and deeper until he felt groan pull forth from his chest. He stuck his first two fingers into Danny’s mouth to keep the younger man from getting to loud, and nearly came when Danny began to tongue the space between his digits.

Vlad could feel Danny start to tighten around him; the man was nearing his end, and Vlad was as well. Heat curled in his belly and flowed down into his balls. His dick throbbed, and he came just after Danny did, watching the younger man throw his head back as he spilled himself over his stomach.

He coaxed Danny up into a sitting position and held his chin up, tilting his head back so that he could press a gentle kiss to Danny’s mouth. A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead; Vlad wiped it away with his thumb. He cleaned himself and Danny off, the latter of which was blushing and looked embarrassed that he came so quickly.

Vlad kissed him again; he could still hardly keep his hands off of him. “Would you like to do this again, Daniel?”

“Absolutely,” Danny replied, still breathless. He shifted; he sore, but not uncomfortably so. In fact, if he shifted at the right angle, a tiny bloom of pain blossomed and replaced itself with a rather pleasurable sensation.

Vlad grinned, zipping his pants up. “Tonight, then. But this time, I believe dinner should come before fantasy. Meet me outside of my office at seven, and next time, we won’t have to be quick about it.”


End file.
